Gemotions

The damp chill of the basement seeped into Leo's bones as he cleared out his grandmother's belongings. He felt a familiar knot of resentment tightening in his stomach. Her belongings were a monument to a life of inaction. There was the list, written on a torn piece of notepaper: "Learn to play guitar." "Travel the world."

He tossed the paper into a bin. Her dreams, so ambitious, seemed like an insult after the life she had led: a quiet existence of church and bingo. He wanted to scream. Instead, he slammed the lid shut. He had to be out of there by the end of the day.